


That’s How Real Men [Bad Word]!

by Virago77



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Choking, Deepthroating, Felching, M/M, Oblivious Scott, Rimming, Rough Sex, Scott is a Bad Friend, Scott is a Hale, Snowballing, Top Derek Hale, Topping from the Bottom, Voyeurism, erotic asphyxiation, gagging, throat-fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 12:11:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12911652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Virago77/pseuds/Virago77
Summary: Brought to you by thisaskon BHADPodcast's tumblr:If I had a brother like Scott McCall I would beat the crap out of him and fuck his girlfriend out of spite. Then I would send the tape to him with the caption THAT'S HOW REAL MEN FUCKS ;) / I'd just change this a bit to: get fucked by his best friend and send the tape with the caption THAT'S HOW REAL MEN FUCKS. Plus, I'd make sure there would be lots of rimming and fetching ... just bucket loads of cum everywhere.





	That’s How Real Men [Bad Word]!

**Author's Note:**

> I had no choice but to write it. Thanks to [bashfyl](http://bashfyl.tumblr.com/) and mizixy for brainstorming with me when I was unhappy with the initial draft, and for helping me polish up the second and third drafts. All mistakes are my own.

            Derek gritted his teeth watching for the nth time as little brother Scott, ditched Stiles, his greatest friend in the world, for Allison, Lydia and Jackson. 

            Last year, Scott finally gained enough control over his shift that their mother had allowed him to do things like go out for sports and date.  Scott didn’t waste any time.  He immediately went out for the lacrosse team and made co-captain.  He began dating Allison Argent the same week.  While it was true that Allison and her father had no part in the hunting side of the Argent clan, and they had an alliance with the Hale pack; she was _still_ an Argent.  Talia Hale and Chris Argent hadn’t been happy to learn about their children seeing one another romantically, but they also knew to forbid it would make things worse. 

            Derek swore he had no idea how the boy was even related to them.  Scott was not _technically_ his brother, but in actuality his cousin and only Talia, Laura and Derek knew the truth.  Derek found out accidentally.  As a child he went through a phase of sneaking around in order to practice his stealth.  On one such occasion, he overheard enough of his mother’s conversation with Laura that she _had_ to tell him the truth.

            Peter Hale, his uncle, had come to the house one afternoon with a year-old baby Scott and an insane story that Derek never really got the details of.  Her brother insisted that Talia take the child, raise him as her son, and take the memories of him from Peter. Apparently Peter’s tale has been serious enough for Talia to agree; she took her brother’s memories of Scott and sent him to stay with extended family, Hale pack in Europe.  Laura had been six and clearly knew Scott wasn’t her brother, but was ordered to keep the secret and treat him as a brother.  Once they realized Derek had been listening in, they swore him to secrecy as well, expecting the three-year-old to forget the whole story in time, but he never did.  Talia was pregnant with Cora and Carter at the time, so they grew up only knowing Scott as their older sibling. 

            Growing up, Derek had always seen Scott as his brother.  He played with him, picked on him, and protected him as one would a younger sibling.  Laura had done it to him, both he and Laura did it to Scott; the trio did it to Cora and Carter.  It wasn’t a matter of his birth, but how he was raised and loved.  And he was loved.  The whole of the Hale family loved Scott.  Everything else aside, Scott _was_ a Hale, through blood and through pack. 

            It was that which baffled Derek.  Nothing was known about Scott’s birth mother, but Peter was a genius…albeit an evil genius, but still, a genius.  Scott had a great education from the moment he became their brother, so how the hell could he be so damn stupid?!

            The young beta wolf had zero clues how to be good at lacrosse without making people like Jackson Whittemore question where the sudden skill came from.  Talia had to scare the daylights out of the boy, steal his memories, and then give her son yet _another_ talking to about keeping a low profile.  Derek was pretty sure that their mother was close to forbidding him to play or see Allison if he didn’t start exercising caution.

            Derek watched in anger as Scott systematically pushed his best (and at one time _only_ friend outside of family) away.  Talia and Sheriff John Stilinski were good friends, so it only made sense that their children would, at some point, develop a friendship of their own.  It happened not long after Claudia Stilinski fell ill.  Talia began spending time at the Stilinski home and then the hospital.  And when his mother’s illness advanced to the point where he couldn’t be left alone with her, Stiles began spending time at the Hale house.  The eldest Hale siblings doted on him; having lost their father a few years prior, they understood what the boy was going through.  Well they didn’t lose him, he lost them, but that fact didn’t make it hurt any less.  Laura and Derek were older and therefore became protective of Stiles as if he were their younger sibling.  And somehow, Scott endeared himself to wide-eyed boy; the two became inseparable and Stiles practically became a Hale himself.

            The duo had been through thick and thin together.  Scott was there when Claudia Stilinski refused the bite because it might not take.  She was from a long line of sparks, and while the power to use her spark had skipped her generation, there was a bigger possibility that the bite would kill her rather than save her.  She didn’t want to give her family false hope, or have them watch her die faster and in excruciating pain.  Perhaps they would have had a better chance if she had gotten the bite before the sickness had progressed so far.  Later, Scott stood by Stiles as he learned the spark had not skipped him and he began lessons with, “ _creepy as fuck!_ ” Alan Deaton—Stiles’ words.  Stiles did not like or trust Deaton, but he trusted that Talia Hale would never allow him to come to harm.

            It had been Stiles that had spilled the beans about Kate pursuing Derek.  From the beginning of his relationship with the Hale family he had always gravitated to Derek.  It started as hero-worship and evolved into something different over the years.  As a kid he _always_ paid close attention to the older wolf and immediately knew when something was amiss.  One word from Stiles about Derek’s strange behavior, and Kate was found out long before she could cause any serious damage. 

            This tore the Argent family apart—separating Chris from his father and wife—and it sent a ripple through the ranks of the hunting community.  After Kate, they began not only policing the supernatural world, but themselves as well.  Most hunters truly only wanted to protect people from feral creatures, and fortunately, they were in the majority.  Rogue sects were weeded out and disavowed.  Chris, left to take care of his young daughter on his own, stopped actively hunting, but became a member of the newly formed hunter’s council which investigated any activities that were considered against code.

            Derek always had a soft spot for Stiles, but after the young man inadvertently saved him and his family from Kate, he became even more protective of him.  He had glared Jackson Whittemore into submission on more than one occasion.  It took threatening to leave him and his precious car mangled and have it look like an accident to finally make Jackson stop picking on Stiles.  Well physically; he still verbally bullied him, but everyone—save Jackson—knew that you couldn’t win a verbal battle with Stiles.  And he _could_ handle a physical fight if it came down to it, but Stiles wasn’t a fighter at heart, and Derek would always save him from bodily harm. 

            So seeing Stiles, near to tears as he watched his best friend run out the door to join his new friends and girlfriend instead of finishing their bro-day, made Derek palpably angry.  Before the vacant spot on the sofa could grow cold, Derek was sitting in it and taking up Scott’s discarded game controller.  “I get to be Mario; no arguments,” was all Derek said as he queued up a new game.  Stiles smiled gratefully as he picked up his controller, eager to play.

            It went like that for several weeks.  Scott would drop Stiles for someone else, or he would flat out forget that they had plans, and Derek would in turn take his place.  Their friendship grew rapidly, especially when they realized that they shared more in common than they had ever realized.  Their banter was phenomenal; it was both exciting and energizing.  Six weeks in, the duo gave up on the pretense that the older boy was only being nice when Scott was a neglectful friend, and began just doing things together.  They made plans to meet up to play games, or have Derek accompany him to his training sessions—Stiles was loathed to be left alone with Deaton.  The emissary-in-training would watch the elder Hales spar or sit in on their alpha-lessons—he would be the emissary to one of them some day.  Every time a new Marvel or DC movie came out, they went to see it together, there were marathons of various series on Netflix, and they watched as Amy and Rory became their favorite Doctor’s companions.

            At the three-month mark, Derek watched as Stiles leaned in and kissed him.  It was clumsy and a little awkward, but full of passion and eagerness and very enjoyable.  After the blushing young man pulled away apologizing, Derek _kissed_ him.  This one was anything but clumsy.  It was slow and sweet and exploratory.  That afternoon he taught Stiles how to tilt his head just so, how to take a breath without completely disconnecting, how to move his tongue, and where he could touch…which was pretty much anywhere and everywhere.

            They didn’t keep their relationship a secret, but only the sheriff and the Hales—except Scott—knew.  There was an unspoken agreement that no one talked about it.  It all had to come to a head at some point.  Talia and the rest of her children understood that this was a lesson Scott needed to learn for himself if he was ever going to get his head on straight. 

            Scott was so wrapped up in his new popular status that he didn’t detect the shift in Stiles’ scent; it was mingled with Derek’s now, and no longer carried the sweetness of virginity, of innocence.  Not once did he spot the passion marks left on pale, mole-dotted skin.  At no time did it register that his ‘bro-for-life’ no longer called or texted him.  Once inseparable, now his former only friend sat at a different lunch table and had made new friends, and the careless beta didn’t see.  There wasn’t even a realization that his big brother reeked of Stiles.

 

            After their father left, Derek was desperate for a release of sadness and anger.  He took to destroying things in his treehouse on the preserve, and then feeling bad about the destruction would try to make something new out of the pieces.  Eventually he stopped destroying things all together; he created little sculptures, and then bigger ones.  The art electives came next and when the art teacher approached to her about her son’s natural talent, Talia mother arranged for the budding young artist to study art outside of school.  Derek tried a hand at many mediums—sketching, painting, sculpting, graphic design; he’d even acquired some basic skill at whittling.

            Upon finishing a year in art school, post high school, Derek came into a portion of his inheritance.  With it, he purchased an abandoned building and turned it into loft apartments.  He selected the top floor as a loft apartment for himself to work and sleep, created a gallery on the floor below, and the rest of the building would gradually be converted into apartments.  The renovations were slow going because Derek was in no a rush and still primarily lived at home with his pack.  While Talia wished he had gone to college, she had no complaints or criticisms about her children making their own way.  His money had been smartly invested while he pursued something he loved.  Most importantly, her second born wasn’t just lazing around living off of family money.  This made the single mother of five very proud; she happy that he and Stiles had found one another.  Her only wish was for someone would enlighten her wayward son.

 

            Having spent the afternoon working on a metal sculpture, Derek came in the house covered in grime.  Scott was in the kitchen working on a project with Allison, Lydia, and Jackson.  Pissed though he was at his brother’s stupidity, Derek still loved him and treated him as such.  Without a word, he entered the room, ruffled the younger boy’s shaggy hair and ran a hand over his neck, scent-marking him on his way to the refrigerator.  “Hey bro,” Scott acknowledged.  Derek only grunted and grabbed a cold bottle of water before heading upstairs for a shower.

            He listened to the conversation that followed him on his way up the kitchen stairs.  “How is it with all the money your family supposedly has, your brother looks like a day laborer,” Jackson sneered.

            “Dude, first of all, Derek is an _artist_.  He’s making on a new sculpture and he’s been working with metal and welding and shit.  He has his own gallery.  And even if he were a day laborer, who the hell cares?  He’s my brother.”

            “I’ve heard of that gallery.  It’s been creating a little buzz in the local art community.  I remember reading that there’s a show coming up in a few months,” Lydia mentioned.

            “Yeah, there is,” Scott smiled proudly.

            “And how the hell are you related to him?  Did he ever win the genetic lottery!” Lydia said.  “Talented, _and_ insanely hot!”

            “Scott is very handsome!” said Allison in defense of her boyfriend.

            “Yes, but Derek is like molten lava.”

            “Please, I’m prettier than him,” Jackson said and both girls laughed.  “What?!  Are you denying that I am?”

            “Jackson, you’re runway model material, but Derek… Derek is pretty while still being ridiculously rugged.”

            “What does that even mean?!”

            “What she means is—” Allison tried to expound; however, was promptly cut off by Lydia explaining herself.

            “What I mean is, he could walk the runway, go chop an entire tree into firewood, and then go home and fuck his partner senseless…while standing, holding them up, and barely breaking a sweat in the process.”

            “Lydia!” Scott and Allison both squealed, for different reasons.  Allison was no prude; nevertheless that kind of talk was very embarrassing for her.  And Scott _never_ wanted to think about his brother in that way.

            “Maybe you didn’t inherit your brother’s looks or talents; you at least finally grew smart enough to drop the Stilinski kid,” Lydia commented.

            “Yeah thank God for that.  The guy was a spastic nightmare!” Jackson agreed.

            Allison countered, “You’re just mad because he’s tied with you for first in class.  And you’re mad because he used to have a crush on Lydia.  I always thought Stiles was sweet.”

            “He talked too much about things that had no bearing on anything, and he was a consummate fifth wheel.  I’m glad you cut him loose, Scott,” Lydia said approvingly.

            “Yeah, now I don’t have to see him panting after my girlfriend all the time.”

            “Stiles hasn’t been interested in Lydia in a long time,” mentioned Allison.

            “Can we stop talking about Stiles and get back to the project?”  Scott grumped and the group shrugged and got back to it.

            Rage quickly filled Derek.  Yes, Scott sounded slightly bothered that they were talking trash about Stiles, yet he never said a thing in his friend’s defense.  Stiles had always been loyal to Scott.  When he couldn’t control the shift, it was Stiles who helped come up with new techniques when the usual ones didn’t work.  It was Stiles who hung around the house for months when Talia wouldn’t allow Scott to do anything other than attend school.  It was Stiles who was there nearly every day cheering him up, keeping him company, or helping him practice control.  Even though Stiles had his own training and school work, and could have participated in extracurriculars, or made new friends, he chose to stick by Scott’s side.  That loyalty was rewarded with betrayal.  As soon as Scott had complete control and was allowed to do things again, he dumped Stiles for the first sport/pretty face he came in contact with. 

            This was the last straw for Derek.  He was going to find a way to make Scott see the error of his ways, and make him suffer for it if it was the last thing he did.

 

            Several days later Stiles arrived at the loft fit to be tied.  He tossed his backpack down on the couch and paced back and forth in the living room grumbling to himself.  Derek turned off his blowtorch, perceiving from Stiles’ body language that he would spend the rest of the evening comforting his boyfriend. 

            Scott had called asking to get together.  “Just like that.  No apology, no mention of the fact that it’s been months since he’s even spoken to me let alone hung out!”

            Derek went to the kitchen and retrieved a bottle of beer from the fridge.  He popped the top and walked it back to the living room, handing it to Stiles.  “Drink this.  I’m going to call for food, get clean, and then you and I will spend the evening watching Netflix and chilling.”

            Stiles let out a short burst of laughter, “Did you just make a joke?”

            “I’m a very funny guy Stiles.”

            “Only to yourself,” Stiles chuckled.

            “You’re mixing me up with yourself.  Savor that because it’s the only one you’re getting—your father would kill me—”

            “Yeah, yeah, I know, especially since you’re not even 21 yet and shouldn’t have alcohol yourself,” Stiles finished for him.  It was lucky that his father trusted the Hales; trusted Derek enough to allow them to date.  There was only a two year age difference, but Derek was still a legal adult at 19 while Stiles was still legally a child, and by California law, below the age of consent.  John Stilinski knew there was more to their relationship than holding hands and chaste kisses, but he trusted Stiles’ judgement—well most of the time.  And he trusted that Talia had raised Derek well; he had watched her do it and had even had a hand in a bit of it.  So Stiles was allowed to spend time alone with Derek at the loft as long as there were no sleepovers prior to Stiles turning 18, and they always had to maintain honest and open lines of communication with each other as well as their parents.

            After Derek had a quick shower the duo lounged on the couch eating Indian food and watching Roswell.  A few episodes they abandoned the show for kissing and eventually made their way up to Derek’s bed.  Later, in sleepy post-coital bliss, Stiles laid his head on Derek’s chest.  He listened to the steady beat of his heart while dragging fingers through the hair on his chest.  Derek’s legs were tangled in the sheets and in Stiles’ and his fingers drew shapes along the pale skin of Stiles’ spine.  “Still angry?”

            “Yes,” Stiles murmured before pressing a soft kiss to the center of Derek’s chest.  “It’s just been pushed to the back of my mind.”

            Derek was quiet for another few moments before, “Would I be wrong for wanting to get revenge on my brother for treating you so abysmally.  Teach him a lesson he won’t soon forget?”

            “I’ve dreamed up a few scenarios,” Stiles said and then sighed, “but he’s your brother and they usually involve maiming.”

            “Stiles, you’re the man I love.  You’ve been like a brother to him for years.  You’re pack and he’s treated you like an old toy he’s out grown.  I know that friends sometimes grow apart, but you’re more than his friend.  He’s gotten too full of himself and mom is still hesitant to pull the alpha card.”

            “She shouldn’t have to do that to her own son.”

            “Exactly my point.  When he called, he acted as if nothing ever happened between you, right?  Even if he hadn’t, he was never going to take responsibility for letting your friendship fall apart.  But I saw what it did to you.  It made me so angry—it _makes_ me angry, which is one of many reasons why I stepped in when he stopped being a good friend.”

            “Oh, you know you’ve loved me since I was a little, hyperactive kid.”

            “You saved my life when you were a little, hyperactive kid.  You’ve always been something of an amazement to me.  As you’ve grown, so have my feelings for you, but I never expected to fall in love with you.  I suppose that I have Scott’s idiocy to thank for it happening so soon; I got to be your first,” he said looking into Stiles’ eyes lovingly.  “I think it would have always happened though.”

            Stiles rested his chin on Derek’s chest never breaking eye contact, “Are you saying we’re soul mates.”

            Derek smiled, a little embarrassed.  He brushed his fingers along Stiles’ cheek, “Call it what you want.  You belong to me.”

            “So you own me?”

            “Your heart.  And mine belongs to you.”

            Stiles couldn’t stop the grin.  “Well when you put it that way…”

            So they talked for a bit and somehow Derek convinced Stiles to go along with his plan.  Derek wanted to get revenge on Stiles’ behalf, and Stiles wanted Scott to feel as shitty as he had felt when Scott forgot about him.  It had made him feel small and unimportant and worst of all, alone.  Until Derek saved him.  Before Derek began filling in the spaces that Scott had left empty, Stiles had been in a bad place.  He had been thinking not so healthy thoughts, and who knows how far he would have taken those thoughts if Derek hadn’t sat down and played Super Mario Brothers with him on that afternoon those months ago.  Stiles was inherently a good person.  He loved and was loyal to his family and friends, but he was still an asshole.  And what Derek had in mind would take an asshole to go along with.

 

***

 

            It was Scott’s turn to host the monthly movie date-night with Allison, Lydia and Jackson.  The group had first gone to the kitchen to get drinks and snacks before settling into seats in the family room.  Scott and Allison had taken the overstuffed armchair—her only barely sitting next to him.  She threw her legs over his lap sideways and leaned into him, anxious to get some quality snuggling in during the movie.  Lydia and Jackson had taken the loveseat.  “Lydia, would you mind grabbing the remote and starting the movie?  The DVD should already be in the player,” Scott asked as Lydia was sitting beside the end table where the remote was situated.

            “Sure,” she said, picked up the remote and started pressing the appropriate buttons.

 

***

 

            When the pictured turned on, Scott recognized Derek’s loft bedroom immediately.  The camera shook a bit and he could hear whispered voices behind it.  Once the focus was fixed on the bed, Derek and Stiles stumbled forward clutching each other.  Derek smirked at the camera before he grabbed Stiles and manhandled him onto the bed.  He crowded over him kissing him rough and wild before pulling away; Stiles reached for him to pull him back. 

            “This isn’t the movie!” Scott said anxiously.

            “Hold on a minute,” Lydia said, eyes glued to the screen.

            From the bed, Derek pointed to the laptop on the nightstand, explaining that the camera was feeding directly there, so they could see everything the camera was capturing.  Derek handed Stiles the remote to control the angle and the focus.

            “Are you sure you want to do this?” Derek asked Stiles.  He was on his knees in front of him, cupping his face.

            “Fuck yes!” he insisted before leaning up and licking over Derek’s mouth, forcing him into a wet dirty kiss.”

            When they pulled away, “Thanks be to my dumbass little brother for pushing you away.  Who knows how long it would have taken us to get together if not for that,” Derek said in an almost desperate voice as his hands ran over Stiles.

            “Fuck Scott!” Stiles cursed vehemently.  “When he finally figures out that we’re together, that we’ve been together for months, I hope he feels even a fraction of how horrible he has made me feel.  I hope he catches us fucking, because I want the vision of you pounding into me to be burned into his memory, so he never forgets it.  Like I’ll never forget all the times he ditched me for Allison or for his new friends on the lacrosse team.  I want him to feel the pain I felt every time he cancelled our plans, or flat out forgot them.  I want him to see you fucking me every time he closes his eyes until it filters into his sleeping and waking dreams.”

            “Then I guess we had better leave a copy of this where he’ll find it,” Derek grinned.

            Scott cringed.  That _couldn’t_ be what was about it happen!  How were they even kissing each other?  Derek and Stiles were like brothers.  It would be incest!  And while mom had taught them that it was a thing that often happened in the supernatural world, it was still, _*shudder*_ gross!  Not Stiles and Derek!  Never Stiles and Derek.  “ _Oh my God, turn it off!_ ” he squealed and attempted to jump to his feet, stopping only to catch Allison whom he had nearly flipped onto the floor.

            “Oh hell no, Hale!  This I gotta see,” Jackson laughed.

            “We definitely have to watch it if it means I get to see him naked,” Lydia added.

            On the screen, “…I want him to feel stupid for not seeing the change in our relationship.  As stupid as I felt when I realized that he and I weren’t even friends anymore, let alone best friends.  I want him to feel hurt and betrayed to learn that we’ve been a couple for months and best friends for even longer.  I want him to feel like an asshole for the whole family knowing something he was too blind to notice.  I want him to feel like he’s untrustworthy because everyone kept the secret from him.”

            Stiles turned and looked directly into the camera, “I want you to hurt Scott.  Hurt like I hurt when my platonic life partner broke up with me without actually breaking up with me.  You forgot about me and left me behind Scott, and you hurt me, so bad.  And I want you to feel worthless because I don’t need you anymore.  I made new friends and I’ve found my soulmate.  And now you get to know about it on my terms, and know that while we’ll always be family, we’ll never be friends again.”

            “Shh,” Derek kissed him softly, brushing away the tears.  He pushed Stiles back on the bed and began kissing and caressing him, calming his upset and getting him worked up in a whole other direction.  It was a few minutes later when Derek began grinding down on Stiles.  He pulled his mouth from Derek’s and let out a wanton moan.  “That’s what I want to hear,” Derek murmured quietly but Scott could hear him clear as day.

            And from one moment to the next it went from a gentle make-out to Derek growling, manhandling Stiles onto his stomach, and ripping him out of his clothes.  When they’re both naked Derek flipped Stiles onto his back again, slid down the bed and swallowed Stiles hard cock in one rapid motion.  Stiles cursed and jerked his hips up, pushing his dick into the back of Derek’s throat.  Derek made a sickening gagging noise and pulled off with a gasp.  “You wanna fuck my mouth?”

            “Yes!” Stiles breathed out.

            “You have to return the favor later.”

            “Yes!”

            “Oh Jesus!” Scott choked.  He _hated_ seeing this, but his eyes were still glued to the screen.  He literally could not believe what he was seeing.  He was waiting for someone to jump out and say he was being punked.  Something—anything but what was on the screen before him.  And his so called friends weren’t helping.  Lydia was giving a running commentary on how good it was, how good they looked together.  And Jackson was surprised that a big alpha male like Derek was an actual cock-sucker.  Allison…she just sat there on his lap, forcing him to stay in place and not at all objecting to what they were watching.  He was pretty sure she wanted to watch it as much as Lydia did.

            Derek went down on his elbows, wrapped his lips around Stiles cock and watched as Stiles fucked up into his mouth, sometimes choking him, but still pistoning up and down, cursing and groaning until he was coming hard in Derek’s mouth, then dropping down on the bed, spent and panting.  Derek quickly moved up the bed and dribbled Stiles’ come into his open mouth.  Stiles reached up and kissed him hard and messy.  When they broke apart they were both breathing heavy with come and spit smeared on their faces.

            “Oh my, I would have never expected that from either of them,” Lydia commented in a wanton tone while shifting in her seat.

            Scott wanted to vomit; he could smell the arousal wafting from Lydia.  How could anyone be turned on by this?  Swallowing down the bile in his throat, he watched as Derek rearranged Stiles so that he was on his knees on the floor with the bed behind him and the camera zoomed in on his upper body.  Derek stood before him, naked ass flexing as he slowly began feeding his cock into Stiles open mouth.  It started slow and easy, but little by little he would push deeper and hold still longer until he was gripped the back of Stiles’ head and he was thrusting into his mouth fast and hard and deep.  He pushed in until Stiles’ nose was pressed against Derek’s pelvis and the head of his cock was bulging in Stiles’ throat.

            From the angle Scott could see Stiles straining and gagging, turning bright red until he thought he would pass out.  But then Derek pulled away violently, ripping a horrible retching sound from Stiles throat, and as his cock left Stiles’ mouth a river of spit and precome flowed over his chin and down his chest.  Stiles’ mouth chin and cheeks were messy with spit and come, his face was bright red and his eyes were filled with tears, but he kept asking for more.  He grabbed Derek’s ass and pulled him in deep, choking himself of Derek’s cock.

            Scott could hear Jackson’s breath deepen and saw that he and Lydia were ever so casually inching closer to one another.

            With one hand Derek gathered Stiles’ wrists and held them over his head.  With his other hand he grabbed his dick and rubbed it over Stiles face.  His eyes and nose, his lips and cheeks.  He slapped it against Stiles’ face and teased Stiles’ hungry mouth before shoving himself inside and began fucking into Stiles mouth fast and rough.  He made him gag and spit and cry and still Stiles wanted more.  And then Derek groaned deep.  He held his dick in Stiles’ throat for a long time before pulling back roughly.  Stiles coughed up a river of come and spit and Derek dropped to his knees and began lapping at Stiles mouth, licking up the come and making a bigger mess of his face.

            At this point, Scott was not so much disgusted as he was horrified.  How could his brother do that to Stiles?  And how could Stiles _let_ him?  It was like that humiliation porn he watched in secret.  It was hot and it was very disturbing to him that seeing his brother throat-fuck his best friend had begun to turned him on.

            Derek moved Stiles onto the bed again, he positioned him so that his head was facing the camera and then he climbed on to the bed.  He folded Stiles legs up lifting his hips off the bed and then dove in face first.  Derek started with slow drags of his tongue along his hole, teasing until Stiles began shaking.  And then Derek began driving his tongue into Stiles’ hole.  “Fuck Derek, eat me! Eat me!” Stiles cried.  He rocked his hips in time with Derek’s thrusts.

            Derek groaned at the taste of him, the heady, pure fragrance and tang of Stiles.  He liked the feel of his hole fluttering around his tongue.  He was trying so hard to keep himself open for Derek, but his muscles were spasming and he knew that Stiles was getting hard again.  So he pulled back, spit into his hole before driving his tongue back inside.  He fucked into Stiles with his tongue deep and fast before pulling back and just tonguing along the outside.  He licked around his perineum and balls until Stiles was begging again.  “Please, Derek.  Put your tongue in my ass!”

            “You want my what where?” Derek asked in a low, rough voice.

            “I _need_ your tongue in my ass!  Now!”

            Derek smirked before complying.  He brushed over the furled opening until it relaxed and opened to welcome Derek’s tongue, so he licked inside, going as deep as he could.  He teased, tickled and tongue-fucked Stiles’ ass until he was a mess of sweat, precome and tears.

            Stiles’ cock was fully hard and spitting precome like a faucet.  Every time he moved to touch himself, Derek slapped his hands away.  And when Stiles thought he was near to passing out from pleasure or want of release, Derek pulled away.  He manhandled him around the bed and then adjust the angle on the camera so it would capture Derek pushing his very hard cock into Stiles’ tight little hole. 

            Scott couldn’t help but watch as the delicate pink flesh stretched around Derek’s massive girth.  It looked painful, as if Stiles would tear open with the next push.  But he took it every inch of Derek, groaning when he bottomed out and Derek’s balls pressed against Stiles’ ass.  He could see the way Derek’s muscles strained from holding himself still; he could see Stiles quivering around Derek’s dick.  Derek’s ass cheeks flexed, but he held still for what seemed like hours before, “ _Please!_ ” was Stiles’ desperate wail.  “Please fuck me!  Derek, fuck me!  Fuck me, Derek!”

            “Since you asked so nicely,” Derek said and Scott could hear the smirk in his voice.  “How do you want it?”

            “Hard!” Stiles demanded without hesitation.  “Hard.  Fast.  I want to feel you for days!”

            And then Derek pulled out and slammed back inside.  Scott recoiled.  Lydia and Jackson were both breathing laboriously and were not so subtly touching one another underneath their clothes.  But worse than that, he could smell Allison’s desire.  Her heartbeat had quickened and he could smell her getting wet.  Very wet.  The musk of it was stronger than he ever remembered.  It was so much more than a slap in the face that his beloved was turned on by his brother and best—ex-best—friend having rough sex. 

            Derek pushed into Stiles hard and fast, in what was surly a punishing pace and all the while Stiles cried for more.  They could all see Stiles’ hole working around Derek’s length.  Derek pulled out, leaving Stiles open and gaping, clasping; trying to get itself around Derek’s girth again.  “No!” Stiles whined before Derek pushed back in.

            The sound of skin slapping as Derek rammed himself into Stiles over and over was sickening to Scott.  Derek was a wolf and Stiles was human and this could not be healthy or safe.  Derek was going to break Stiles and Scott could do nothing but watch, helpless and horrified. 

            Derek threw his head back and moaned with a blissed out look on his face.  “Fuck, you feel good Stiles.  Tight.  So tight,” he moaned.  Suddenly Derek pulled away cursing.  He had nearly forgotten himself and got too close to coming.  He took a few seconds to catch his breath and check the camera angle on the laptop.  Then he moved over Stiles again, pressing into him and hiking Stiles’ legs over his arms.  It took a moment to maneuver before he was lifting Stiles up off the bed and turning them so that Stiles’ back was to the camera.  Derek held on to his ass and held him up as he thrust up inside of him.  He used Stiles’ weight to bounce him up and down on his cock, proving to Scott that Derek had definitely overheard the conversation that day in the kitchen.  Stiles held on to Derek, arms and legs wrapped around him as he was shoved up and down roughly.

            “ _Shit_!” Lydia whispered.  Jackson groaned quietly as her hand tightened around his length inside his pants.

            Derek leaned forward and kissed Stiles, wet and messy.  Then he dropped Stiles back down on the bed.  He pushed his knees up to his chest and pistoned deep as he kissed him again.  He began rotating his hips in a circular motion, then rocking from side to side.  He was just barely brushing against his prostate, teasing Stiles, driving him crazy with want.  Stiles tried to rock back into Derek, but he couldn’t move.

            “You want control?”  Then Derek moved so that he was on his back and Stiles was riding him.  Stiles planted his hands on Derek’s chest and began rocking his hips up and back until he found the motion that hit his prostate dead on.  Stiles let out a desperate cry and his body trembled with pleasure.  Derek let out an amused laugh, grasped Stiles’ hips and began pushing his hips up.  “You want control, but you can’t handle it,” he teased as he angled his hips to hit Stiles’ prostate every few strokes.  Stiles began whining; his cock was bright red and rock hard and he wanted to come desperately.  But he didn’t want the pleasure to end either.  “Derek, Derek,” Stiles begged, but he didn’t know what he was begging for.

            Scott was surprised when Allison grabbed his hand and slipped it between her legs.  She was wearing a skirt and Scott could feel that her panties were dripping wet.  He wanted to resist, but couldn’t as she used his fingers to push the crotch of her panties aside and pressed them into her wet folds.  She wanted him to get her off while they watched Derek and Stiles fucking.  Scott always gave Allison what she wanted, even if he would hate himself for it later.

            Derek knew what Stiles wanted.  He repositioned them to face the camera with Stiles on his hands and knees and Derek pushing into him from behind.  “Yes, yes!” Stiles cried.  Derek held his hips in a vicelike grip and pulled Stiles back as he trust forward.  “Fu-uck!” Stiles grunted.  Derek was filling him so full and pressing so deep that he felt ready to burst.  He reached between his thighs to touch himself and got a smack for his trouble.

            Scott looked on as Derek stopped moving long enough to pull Stiles upright and secure both his wrists behind his back.  He licked a stripe up the side of his face, “You know you’re not supposed to touch that unless I give you permission.”

            “I’m sorry,”

            “I should punish you by not finishing.”

            “No, please!” Stiles pleaded.

            “I should, but you feel. Too. Fucking. Good. To stop,” he groaned and accentuated each word with a rotation of his hips.

            Derek held Stiles wrists behind his back with one hand and wrapped his other arm around his chest.  He pressed Stiles against him as he fucked up into him.  “Oh my God, Derek!  Make me come.  I’m so close, let me—”

            “You come from just my cock, or you don’t come,” Derek’s voice was low with a hint of danger.

           The sound of it disturbed Scott.  This whole ordeal had been a nightmare, and he had been worried for Stiles’ wellbeing throughout.  But now, as he watched Derek move his arm from around Stiles’ chest and wrapped his hand around his throat, Scott’s body jerked in surprise, anger and misery.  Allison assumed he was just as turned on as the rest of them and reached for the very prominent (much to his chagrin) bulge in his pants.  She did her best to work her hand over it while rocking into his fingers.

            Derek squeezed ever so slightly, cutting off a little of Stiles’ air supply as he pushed into him faster and harder.  He angled his hips and began hitting his prostate with thrust after thrust.  Stiles let out a choked off moan as Derek’s hand tightened more.  Stiles began pushing himself back on Derek.  As he did, his poor neglected cock bounced up and down slapping against his belly in a teasing friction.

            “C’mon Stiles you can do it.  Come on my cock,” Derek growled. 

            Stiles face was red and he was making choking sounds behind Derek’s fist.  Derek was growling and grunting as he slammed into Stiles over and over.  Their flesh was slapping, Stiles’ ass made a squelching sound with every thrust.  Stiles was choking, turning purple, his eyes were rolling back and Scott was certain that Derek was going to kill him.  But that didn’t stop him from thrusting into Allison’s hand or from rubbing her clit with his thumb while two of his fingers fucking into her wildly.

            Suddenly, Stiles’ cock jerked and began shooting thick ropes of come.  Derek was still pushing into him roughly, and Stiles’ cock continued to bounce, throwing come on the bed and his chest—his face.  Stiles went limp and Derek caught him around the chest.  He groaned deep, “Fuu-uck, Stiles!” as Stiles hole pulsed and spasmed around him.  He came hard nearly howling as he held Stiles’ prone form tight against him before pulling out, letting Stiles fall face first onto the mattress and shooting his load all over his thighs, ass and back.

            Derek’s hips continued to jerk as he worked himself through his orgasm, cursing and grunting.  He leaned down and rubbed his still pulsing dick over Stiles’ ass before pushing back inside his abused hole.  He drove himself in a half dozen times before pulling away again and began licking and biting his way down Stiles’ prone body. 

            Scott grunted as he came in his pants under Allison’s ministrations.  In his head he cried because it looked like Stiles was dead and that Derek was defiling his body.  Across the room he could hear Jackson and Lydia working each other to completion as they watched Derek spread the red, abused cheeks of Stiles’ ass open and shove his mouth against it.  Scott finally slammed his eyes shut and listened with disgust as Derek commenced tonguing the dripping hole, eating his come out of Stiles’ ass.  Listened as Allison sighed his name before shuddering against him, coming all over his fingers, harder and wetter than she ever had before.

            Scott wouldn’t look at the screen, fearful that Derek really had fucked Stiles to death.  Disgusted by the fact that the four of them had gotten off on it.  Certain that he deserved exactly this as punishment for what he had done to Stiles.

            He gasped and his heart stuttered when he finally opened his eyes saw Stiles’ hips move on their own.  Then Stiles slurred Derek’s name, come-drunk and half unconscious.  Derek shushed him, promising that he was okay and that Derek would take care of him.

            “Turn it off, please,” Scott begged quietly.  This time Lydia complied and pushed the buttons that would turn the screen blank.  Neither couple could look at one another as they said some very awkward goodbyes.  When Jackson and Lydia were gone, Allison could hardly look Scott in the eye.  He could smell her anxiety and understood it.  He wasn’t sure if he was angry or jealous or _what_ by the fact that Allison had enjoyed watching his brother fuck his best friend.  He wasn’t sure what he felt about the fact that he had gotten off on it himself. 

            “I should probably get you home,” he said softly.

            “Yeah, sure,” she said both upset and relieved.  They probably needed to have a talk, but she’d be damned if they were going to do it right now! Neither spoke as Scott drove her home.  They said an uncomfortable goodbye and Scott waited until she was inside before driving off.  He drove around for hours trying to clear his head, trying to figure out what to do about Allison, Stiles, and Derek.  This was a mess he had gotten himself into, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t have Stiles to help him out of it.

 

***

 

            When Scott woke it was still dark; he wished that he could call it all an awful nightmare, but try as he might he couldn’t forget the sight of Derek brutally violating his best friend.  He couldn’t forget the fear he felt as he watched Derek fuck him into unconsciousness.  He couldn’t forget the fact that he and his friends had all gotten off in it.  It was too much and Scott curled into a ball and cried himself back to sleep.

            Like Stiles had hoped, the visions burned themselves into his dreams.  Scott slept fitfully.  He awoke tired and miserable, feeling horrified and ashamed.  He showered and dressed and went down for breakfast wordlessly.  He couldn’t look anyone in the eye, least of all Derek, who was kind enough not to smirk in his face.

            Scott didn’t know where to begin, but he knew he needed to do _something_.  He had no idea how he would since the two people he would normally go to for help were so angry at him that they put on that traumatic tableau for him yesterday.  They wouldn’t want to speak to him, and even if they did, he couldn’t look them in the eyes.  Not yet—maybe never.

            Allison was part of the problem, as was lacrosse and his friendship with the team, so he couldn’t seek help from them.  Scott was clueless how to begin.  He was scared and alone and it must have been exactly how Stiles had felt when Scott betrayed and ignored their friendship.  It was an awful feeling and he had only felt it for a short while.  How had Stiles survived it for as long as he had?  How would Scott survive it now?  Most importantly, how did he make it better?  He had no clue, so he avoided dealing with it until he could think of just the right plan.  And he kept avoiding it.

 

***

 

            Several weeks after the infamous movie night, Lydia Martin sat herself next to Stiles in Chemistry class.  There were several minutes before class was due to begin and students were only just beginning to trickle into the room.  “Stiles,” she said with an odd air about her.

            “Lydia,” he mimicked her tone.

            “I owe you an apology.”

            Stiles looked at her and then around the room.  He wasn’t sure what was actually happening, but he couldn’t possibly be getting an apology from _THE_ mean girl of Beacon Hills High.

            “I never realized the relationship you and Scott had.  I never thought about how you would feel if he stopped being your friend in order to be friends with us—I never really _thought_ about you.  But after certain things were brought to light, I started paying attention to you.  Scott is a fool and I’m sorry I treated you so poorly without even knowing you.  I know this doesn’t make us friends, but we’re not enemies either, or are we?”

            Stiles contemplated her for several moments.  She seemed genuinely sincere.  Her apology, while very kind had been unnecessary.  It wasn’t her duty to pay attention to every person who looked her way, but she at least acknowledged that she had judged him without giving him a chance.  Stiles could appreciate that.  It was the same him crushing on her with only his estimation of her.  While he knew things about her that others probably didn’t, he didn’t actually _know_ Lydia Martin.

            Stiles offered her a smile, “No, not enemies.”

            “Good,” she said and moved to stand.  “By the way, you and Derek make a beautiful couple.  I hope you guys make it.”

            “Thanks.”

            After that conversation, while they never really became friends, Lydia Martin always acknowledged Stiles’ existence.  And Jackson became, more or less, civil toward him.

 

***

 

            Scott’s friends didn’t stop hanging out with him, Allison didn’t break up with him, but they never looked at him quite the same.  And Scott was never really sure if it was because they had all watched the sex tape, or because of the reason Derek and Stiles had left it for him to find.  And of course Scott was always too chicken to ask.

            The group went to prom together, all meeting at Scott’s house last so that Mrs. Hale could get a thousand pictures just as Jackson, Lydia and Allison’s parents had.  They all posed in individual, couple, and group shots, humoring Talia as she gushed over how beautiful they all looked.  She had grouped them together for a few final shots when Derek descended the stairs in a three-piece, all-black tux.  “My, my Mr. Hale, you have certainly outdone yourself,” Lydia complimented.

            Talia spun around took one look at her son and cooed, “Oh Derek, my handsome boy,”

            “Ma!” Derek blushed.

            “You’re so beautiful, look at you!”

            “I wanted to look nice for Stiles,” he grinned.

            Allison said, “Stiles is going to be blown away.”

            “Thank you, Allison.  You guys all look great.  Have fun tonight.”  Derek reached for his keys.

            “Not so fast mister.  I need at least a few pictures.”

            Derek couldn’t say no to his mother and stopped to pose for several solo pictures, and then a few with his kid brother.  Derek’s smile was a little forced.  He didn’t hate his brother—he couldn’t; it was his brother.  He couldn’t forgive Scott’s behavior either.  It had been weeks since the incident with the DVD and it was still radio silence from Scott.  Derek didn’t want to pretend he knew what was going on in his brother’s head, but whatever it was, was no good.  Even if they never rekindled their friendship, Scott at the very least owed Stiles an apology.

            “Ma, I’ve gotta go.  I still have to do pictures with Stiles at his house.”

            “All right go, but tell John I expect a set of pictures from him.”

            At the Stilinski household, things got little melancholy as John mused over how tickled Claudia would have been to see Stiles going to prom.  The Stilinski men got misty-eyed and shared a long hug before pulling themselves away and attempting to lighten the mood.  John posed them and took many, many pictures before Stiles insisted that they need to go.  Derek reminded John to send copies to his mom before escorting Stiles outside to the Camaro.

 

            Scott noticed their entrance, everyone did.  Although he had found friends besides Scott, Stiles was anything but popular.  He was still thought of as the Sheriff’s spastic kid who talked too much.  But with his hair artfully styled, wearing a tuxedo, Stiles presented quite the picture.  And with arm candy like Derek Hale—suddenly all eyes were on them.

            “Don’t let them freak you out.  Look, there are Erica and Boyd, let’s go sit with them,” Derek said before steering them in the direction of the other couple.

            All evening Scott caught himself looking to Derek and Stiles.  He watched as they ate from one another’s plates at dinner, as they joked and laughed with their tablemates, as they danced with their friends.  Toward the end of the night both of them had lost their jackets.  Derek was standing at the table, one foot up on the chair and his elbow leaning on his knee.  He was deep in conversation with Boyd when Stiles appeared from somewhere on the dancefloor.  He placed his hands on Derek’s shoulders, which got the older man’s attention.  He stood fully and turned to face Stiles.  Stiles spoke and Derek grinned at him, then he took the ends of Derek’s undone tie and used them to lead him out to the dance floor.  Derek followed obediently.  Happily.

            Scott pulled Allison a bit closer as he watched Derek take Stiles into his arms, pressed cheek to cheek they danced, whispering secrets in each other’s ears.  Stiles laughed softly and moved back to look at Derek.  He whispered something again before their lips met in a very passionate kiss.  Scott had to look away.  He felt like he was intruding on something intimately private; he was uncertain how he felt about his brother and best—former best friend—being together.  They looked so blissfully happy.  It made Scott sad that he wasn’t a part of it even though he was responsible for it happening.  When he looked again Derek and Stiles were gone.  He caught a flash of Stiles throwing his jacket over his shoulder as Derek led him through the exit by the hand.  They were leaving the dance, ostensibly to have their own private party.  He noticed that Boyd, Erica, and a few others followed after them shortly.

 

            Before Scott knew it, it was graduation and he still hadn’t made things right with Stiles.  As he watched him laughing with Laura across the yard, he thought maybe, just maybe it wasn’t too late.  He made his way over to the pair, who went silent the moment he entered their space.  Laura looked from Stiles to her brother and back again.  Stiles looked anything but pleased to be faced with his former best friend at this particular moment, but there was no stopping the confrontation now.  “I’m just gonna go get some food,” she said before getting away from them as fast as she could without actually running.  This conversation was well overdue, but she didn’t want to be there to witness it up close and personal.

            “So, we’re finally high school graduates,” Scott said—stupidly in Stiles’ estimation.

            Stiles rolled his eyes, “We haven’t talked in months and _that’s_ the first thing you have to say to me?  Are you serious right now?”

            “Look, Stiles, I know we drifted apart, but that’s no reason—”

            “Drifted apart?” Stiles interrupted him, “Is that what you think happened?”

            Scott nodded, “I made the team and some new friends and you started hanging with Erica and Boyd—”

            “Asshole, I only started hanging with Erica, Boyd and Isaac because you had completely stopped talking to me!”

            “But you and Derek—”

            “Derek and I started hanging out more because he watched as week after week you found one selfish reason after another to ditch me, or cancel our bro-time, or make our entire time together all about you.”

            “Stiles…”

            “I suppose I should thank you for that because even though I had been crushing on Derek for ages, I would have never worked up the courage to make a move on him if we hadn’t become best friends first.”

            “Best friends?  But I’m supposed to be your best friend!  You start fucking Derek and get a few new people to eat lunch with, and suddenly I’m what?”

            “Former best friend?  Pack mate? Future brother-in-law?  Take your pick, Scott, because they all apply.”

            “So what, that’s it for us?  We’ve been like brothers since we were kids and now you’re with Derek and that’s just _it_?”

            “It’s all down to you Scott,” Stiles with a look of pure resolve on his face.

            “What do you want me to say, Stiles?  After you left that god awful movie for me to find—you humiliated me in front of my friends—what could you possibly want me to say?”

            Stiles dropped his head and sucked his teeth in disgust.  He shook his head in disbelief before turning his gaze back up to Scott, “I think the words you’re looking for are ‘ _I’m sorry’_!” he bellowed.  Stiles shook his head again and turned away from Scott, mumbling, “ _Asshole!”_ under his breath as he walked away.

            And that was it for Stiles, the last straw.  He had given Scott the opportunity to make amends—he had months to contemplate things.  As usual, Scott had made everything about himself, and would accept none of the blame.  It was as though he didn’t believe he had done anything wrong.  Stiles would miss the times they used to have, and he would always have Scott in his life.  But their friendship was over and done and could never be resurrected.


End file.
